Something To Keep In Your Right Pocket
by dress without sleeves
Summary: Sometimes, Harry's friends have reasoned, it is better to say good luck then goodbye.
1. Ron

**Author's Notes:** This is another one of those things that has been sitting on my computer for ages and ages and ages…Thanks to **Angel's Touch** for beta'ing, because she's amazing. Now go read everything she's ever written, as it is amazing and you'll all love it.

Yes, well. Welcome to fanfiction, In Character!Ron.

Okay, that was mean. But really. Has NO ONE else noticed that he normally just gets written as the psycho with a really, really annoying temper? Bah-humbug. He's more, ladies and gents. Really.

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_Harry, mate—_

_Here we are then, at the end of the world. It's a little funny, actually. I know, I know; No, Ronald, it is **not** funny, this is Harry's** life** we are talking about, how **dare** you suggest that the situation is humorous!_

_Harry, the little voice in my head is starting to sound frighteningly like Hermione._

_But that's all beside the point. That's just a little tidbit of information that I think you should know about because — well, because you're my best mate and you know everything about me, anyway, so I figure you ought to know that as well. And…well. Right. Anyway._

_No, but seriously, the only thing funny about this end-of-the-world thing is that…well, I mean, think about it. We've been together for seven years—bloody hell, has it been that long already?—and we have managed to put ourselves in chances of approximately two-hundred-million-gazillion-bagillion-to-one of death and managed to come out alive every time._

_Not unscathed, sure, but alive. Which was, essentially, pretty cool. I mean, I'm not exactly looking forward to death. But hey, I'm not afraid of it or anything. No way. I'm afraid of a lot of things, I'll admit it, but death isn't one of them._

_The novelty wears off when you face it every single year. It gets old. _

_Now what I **am** afraid of is Hermione. I mean, she's bloody terrifying when she wants to be. But you know that; I'm not her only best friend. I'm afraid of my Mum, too, because when she gets angry I just want to crawl into a hole and bloody** die**. Oh, and I might be just a **teeny, tiny** bit afraid of Ginny._

_Don't laugh. You've never seen her royally pissed off._

_Isn't that weird, though? I'm afraid of my family's disappointment, but I'm not afraid of Voldemort. If that isn't screwed up, I don't know what is._

_Anyway. Harry, you're my best mate. You know that. I'd die for you—you know that, too, and probably really hate it. You're like a brother to me. You know that—or at least, I assume you do, because if my mother hasn't been clear enough on that fact, you're just bloody stupid. And I know this letter isn't exactly somber and I haven't told you not to **dare** die because I will set my Mother, Ginny, and Hermione on you all at once, but that's because…_

_Well, it's because I honest-to-Merlin don't think you're going to die._

_Maybe it's wishful thinking, or best-mate-instinct, or something. I don't know; I don't care. I just know, **know,** without a doubt, that you are going to come back from battle today. You'll be really bloody, you'll look like shit, and probably be more depressed than you've been through all of our years together—depressed in a good way, though. Depressed because of all the people that have died getting you where you are today. But you'll get over it; you'll get past it._

_And I'll be there, too. With you. Feeling just as awful, wanting to put my fist (or head) through a wall just as badly, but we'll get through it together by doing the manly thing: not talking about it to one another and acting all macho until our respective girlfriends force us to tell them about it and we wind up on the Common Room floor in the fetal position, sobbing our eyes out._

_But after we do all that, we'll be all right. And slowly, we'll all get back to normal._

_Er…well…normal-ish, anyway. Because quite frankly, I'm a little unsure of what "normal" is to you. Especially when there isn't some royally pissed Dark Tosser out for your head._

_And I mean that literally. Your head is much more attractive than his._

_Anyway; Harry, mate, go out there and beat the shit out of Voldy for me, all right? You're my best mate and I…well, I'm rather fond of you and would like it very much if you didn't go ahead and die on me._

_Thanks very much._

_See you later, mate. Good luck._

—_Ron_


	2. Hermione

**Author's Notes:** Whoa, twice in one day! Yeah, well, I figured that since I a) have no life, and b) haven't updated this in forever, I might as well. :P

So anyhoo, here's Hermione. Next is Ginny, then I think it's Fred and George. I'm not sure. Anyway – enjoy!

_**Hermione**_

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sure Ron has gone and botched up his letter, and honestly, I just can't **believe** how immature he is! You'd think, after **seven years** of facing death, he'd take it a bit more seriously! But no! It seems like the more he faces it, the less he cares! Harry, it doesn't make **sense**! I do not now, nor will I ever, understand that boy._

_Now, on to more important matters._

_Oh, Harry._

_I love you. No, you great prat, not like** that**, I just mean that I love you like a brother and I best friend and I…oh, heavens, I don't know **what** I would do if you died, so just come back, okay? I know the prophecy said that it was either you or him, but…oh, Harry! I…you can't die! You can't!_

_I'm sorry; I've got to keep calm, here._

_Harry, you are the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. And I don't want to lose that. You and Ron are my best friends, but obviously my feelings for Ron are a bit different, I mean, how could they not be, he's everything that I've ever—_

_That is to say, he's an insensitive dolt and I…well, I argue with him a lot. That's what I meant. Obviously._

_Just do your best. I know you can do this. You're a great wizard, Harry. You have everything it takes—bravery, talent, and—oh, Gods, don't get angry at me for this—the intense will to be the hero._

_I mean it in the best way possible, Harry. It's a compliment. You always put everyone before yourself and you do what will make a difference in one life, as opposed to everyone else. It's like that saying—"Don't get so caught up in the forest that you lose sight of the trees."_

_I think Dumbledore said it, or maybe I read it in **Hogwarts, A History, **but I don't really care. That's what you do, Harry—you keep an eye on the trees._

_That probably doesn't make much sense to you, but oh well. It's the best I can do._

_Come home, all right? If something happens to you…well, let's put it this way: if something happens to you, Ron and I will probably argue until we both become mute from yelling and deaf from being yelled at and we'll wallow away in our silent misery._

_Don't do that to me, Harry. Don't leave me alone with him. Just…come back._

_And Gods knows I would miss you. So much. You were my first friend, Harry. Ron came afterwards, of course, but you were the first. No one ever really understood me in grade school, and while you've always been a bit dense in the girl-department, I think you manage to see past my bookish-ness. Having you with me all these years has meant the world to me, and I can't possibly tell you how much I would miss you if you…didn't return today._

_I love you—yes, I know, I've said it and clarified it's meaning, but it's true. Don't you** ever** think you're alone in this, Harry. You have a family…right here, beside Ron, the Weasleys, and I. Not that Ron isn't a Weasley, but…oh, you know what I mean._

_And you've also got Neville, Luna, the Order…hell, Harry, you've got the whole **world** behind you!_

_You're more than just a good wizard, Harry. You're brave, you're talented, yes; but you're so much more. More to me, more to Ron, more to Ginny…you're our friend. And tonight, when you go out to fight, remember that. You're not going out there as the Boy-Who-Lived, or as the Famous Harry Potter._

_You're going out there as just…Harry. Our Harry. Because our Harry is the one that is going to defeat Voldemort. Not everyone else's Harry._

_Good luck. You can do this; I know you can. I know** you**. _

_Always,_

_Hermione_


	3. Ginny

**Author's Note:** Am proud to say that this is now, officially, AU.

Word.

_Harry,_

_Well, now that bother Ron **and** Hermione have sufficiently wasted paper **whining** about one another, I'm here to tell you the facts and sum up what they really **meant** to say but didn't, because they are completely idiotic and refuse to admit that they're in love with one another and therefore take it out on everyone else._

_Stupid dolts._

_Anyway, here goes my letter._

_Oh, and by the way: shut up and don't say or do anything until you've finished reading it, got that? Good._

_I'm in love with you._

_I haven't exactly kept it secret all these years, and Merlin knows I don't expect you to read this and suddenly decide that my affections are returned, but I wanted you to know before you went out there today. Maybe it's cowardice, because the prospect of facing a world without you, a world where I never told you how I felt, is horrifying to me. But I **do** want you to know, and when you go out there today, remember it. I don't care what you have to do in order to kill Voldemort, Harry. If it's horrifying and cruel, than he deserves it. And nothing, no nothing, could keep me from loving you._

…_But here's the thing: as in love with you as I may be, if you come back from the fighting dead, I swear on everything **holy** that I will** find** a way to bring you back and KILL YOU MYSELF. You got that? If you go and die on me, I'll…I'll dye my hair green, pierce my upper lip and…oh, I don't know…have a sex change or something! Or worse — become Snape's mistress, **in** **addition to** the killing of you personally!_

_And don't you think I won't do it, Harry. I swear on my Bat Bogey Hex that I will._

_Do you **honestly** want that for me, Harry? Do you want me to be reduced to **shagging Snape**? For **free**! Of my **own free will**!_

_You're killing me, Harry; really, you are._

_Don't make me do it. Please, oh please, oh please. Because I've officially given my word that if you die, I'm going to do just that—become Snape's mistress. Just you wait and see. And you'll be up in heaven and have to watch me as I go crawling into his dungeons in a revealing dress and cringing at the sight of his overly large nose and desperately-in-need-of-a-wash hair, and you'll just freak out. I know you will._

_So? You'll come back alive, then?_

_Good. Because I simply will not allow otherwise._

_By the way, Harry, I wasn't kidding. I really do love you—and no, not in a brotherly way. Well, I mean, yes, I do love you as a friend, of course, but I love you more as a boy. Er, that is, a boyfriend. Or as a guy. A male._

_Well, you know._

_Anyway. Mum is having a fit and Ron and Hermione are bickering again (they just never stop, do they?) and I imagine you'll be here soon to tell us that the world is ending and you have to go stop it and all that jazz._

_So I love you, best of luck, and please, just…come back alive._

_And now, for the sake of all things girly, I shall add something positively romantic that will make you gag and want to hide forever in a cardboard box._

_Harry, I am so deeply, touchingly in love with you! You cannot leave me, my one, my only! I shall **die** without you here! Come back to me alive, my love, and we shall make passionate, torrid love under the full moon!_

_Hah. You blushed. I know you did._

_Look, Potter. I know about the prophecy (and I had to bloody eavesdrop to find out about it, too; **why**, exactly, does no one tell me anything around here?) and I know that it's you or him; and trust me, Harry: it'll be him. Not only because I have struck fear in your heart with my threats, but also because, well, frankly, you're better than he is._

_Yes, it'll hurt like hell, yes, you'll probably be scarred inside and out, but you **can** do this. And you will. Because if you don't, the wizarding world hasn't any hope left. And you will because the bloody bastard has tried to get you seven times—well, eight if you count the Death Eater attack last week—and you'd beaten him every single time._

_Well, no, okay, so your Mum did it for you when you were a kid. But hey, seven out of eight isn't bad odds. In fact, I'd be feeling pretty confident right now if I was you._

_Which I'm not, thank **Merlin**. I mean, really; you have got to have the biggest feet this side of…well…just the biggest bloody feet. It's kind of cute, actually, but when I think about actually **having** those feet…bleh. It would be like watching Ron shove his tongue down Hermione's throat._

_Of course, I'll never have to worry about that, as they both seem rather attached to the 'unexplained' sexual tension between them._

_All right, well, you just go on and save us all then. I love you, come back safe, and for pity's sake, don't get banged up too bad, yeah?_

_All my love,_

Ginny


	4. Molly, Arthur, and Remus

**Author's Notes:** Wow. My first update in … what, two months? Sorry. Those aliens can be hell.

Just like Pootytang.

Anyway – here's two letters, because they're both sort of short. Enjoy, yo.

_Oh, Harry._

_We believe in you. We do. We know you can do this, but we don't want to lose you. Arthur and I love you, Harry, so much—you're our son, whether you know it or not. You are a Weasley through and through._

_We've been fortunate so far, through this war. Percy and Charlie have gone on…but Harry, don't you follow them. Don't you dare. We love you and have every intention of planning your wedding and your children's birthday parties and just weekends with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur._

_Harry, you are our only hope of getting grandchildren with beautiful green eyes. Don't let us down. _

_We all love you round here; myself, Arthur, Lupin, Dumbledore, the kids…it would be awfully lonely and quiet with you gone. You're everything your parents would want you to be, I'm sure—mature, brave, strong…I think that would matter most, Harry. That you're strong. A fighter. That you are fighting to make sure they did not die in vain. But you are our son, too—maybe not biologically, maybe not in the eyes of the blasted ministry and that idiot Fudge, but in our eyes, and our hearts, you are. And Harry, from parents to their child…_

_We're proud of you. You are an immensely talented wizard, but you're more than that. You're family. And no matter what happens today, no matter what the world asks of you, remember that. You are our son and we love you just as much as we love Ron, and Bill, and the twins. As much as we loved Charlie and Percy._

_Best of luck to you, Harry. We love you; remember that._

_Love,_

Mum and Dad

----

_Harry—_

_The road to where we are now has been an odd one, hasn't it? I started out the kind professor, moved on to the friend-ish ex-teacher, finally became an-old-friend-of-your-fathers, graduated to friend-of-Sirius', and now…now, I like to think that we're friends._

_And Harry, even if we weren't I'd still be writing this. I hate that I'm the only one left to do it, and I swear if Peter and I could trade places for Sirius or your parents, I would and I would force him to as well._

_But the fact of the matter is, we can't, and as much as I hate that it's the truth. But that doesn't mean that I don't have things to say to you now, because this is your destiny and I may not make it through the day, all of us might not make it, but I swear to you that I will be behind you every step of your way._

_You are everything that James and Lily wanted you to be, Harry. I may be the last true Marauder left, but I certainly remember the days when we were all alive and well._

_You are the best of both sides. You have Lily's quiet nature and James' ability to charm those around you without meaning to. You have a bizarre mix of Lily's and James' senses of humor, and their mutual hate for tripe. You have your father's Quidditch skills and your mother's innate ability to sooth those around you. You have your father's leadership and your mother's quiet way of inspiring loyalty. You have your father's face and your mother's eyes. But mostly…you have your parents' determination, their hope, and their heart._

_Every time I see you, Harry, I have the oddest sense of déjà vu. Seeing you is like being with all four—yes, four; Peter was a great man before he was…corrupted? Turned? Perverted? Whatever—of my best friends again. It's really…fulfilling._

_Anyway, enough about me. Do well, Harry; I know you can._

_Oh, and Harry?_

_Leave. The rat. To me._

_Yours—_

Remus


	5. Fred and George

**Author's Notes:** GASP! She's updating!

Yes, well, sure beats listening to my History professor drone on and on about things that I really don't care about.

Seriously, Mr. Goodnow does an _excellent_ impression of Binns.

Anyway, on that note, enjoy!

---

_Harry old chap!_

_How are things?_

_**Oh, nice, Fred. I bet they're just smashing, aren't they, Harry? Really corking.** _

_Good going, George. Make the bloke feel worse._

_**ANYWAY. We hear you're going after the big Mr. V today, eh?**_

_We'll be there too, of course, spraying our new, delicious—_

_**Or malicious…depends on how you look at it, really—**_

_Hairspray. It's ingenious: the touch of it on a Death Eater,_

_**and only a Death Eater: that bit's important. It recognizes them. Brilliant, no?**_

_And the chap—or chapess, if you will—turns against his team, even if he doesn't want to. It'll gain us a ton of temporary troops, I imagine._

**_But best of all, it's nothing like the Imperious because it makes them want to! And anyway, even if it was like the Curse, we couldn't get in trouble as these lovely little bottles aren't illegal!_**

…_Yet. But at any rate, we just wanted you to know about it. So if you see a bunch of black masks shooting on their own team, don't be surprised._

_**And back to the topic at hand: good luck today.**_

_We're sure you can do it. In fact, we made a bet that you could against Malfoy—the idiot had the gall to imply that you'll be crushed, or other such nonsense—and if you don't win, we have to have our...ah…_

…_**family jewels, if you will…**_

_Yes, our family jewels removed._

_**On the bright side, if you win, he'll have to remove his…and he'll also have to stand up in the Great Hall and announce that he's really a halfblood, he's gay, and he's been pining after Goyle for years.**_

_We figured it was punishment enough for him. I mean, telling people he's a halfblood, gay, AND in love with Goyle?_

_**Although I imagine Goyle will be pleased.** **Anyway, get the old snake-face, Harry. Because I'm really quite fond of Englebert, Adam, and Bernard.**_

_Those are what he's named his…well, you know. Bernard is just wishful thinking, though._

_**Shut it, you prat. Besides, it's not like you didn't name the mole on the side of your neck after Madam Pince.**_

_Yes, well, that's different. I had a crush on her when I named it—it's always the quiet ones, Harry. Keep that in mind—and once I'd recovered I was rather attached to the name 'Pincey'._

**_Doesn't change the fact that you named it after a librarian._**

_Oy, you're forgetting that you had a crush on Madam Hooch for three years._

_**Hey! Quidditch player!**_

_Uh, old Quidditch player._

**_Pish. Old, yet lively Quidditch player._**

_Good luck today, Harry. We'll be right there with you._

_**And so will the rest of the family, I imagine. Although maybe we ought to lock Ginny in a closet somewhere.**_

_Good idea. I'll get right on it._

_**See you soon, Harry. Good luck to our number-one investor!**_

_All our love! giggle, blush_

_**Ignore him.**_

_-Fred **a**n**d** **George**_

_**-George** a**n**d Fred_

_-Fred **a**n**d** **George**_

_**-George** a**n**d Fred_

_-Fred **a**n**d** **George**_

_**-George** a**n**d Fred_

_-T**h**e **W**e**a**s**l**e**y** T**w**i**n**s_


	6. Sirius

For Becca, to prove that there's more than one side to sadness.

_---_

_Harry,_

_If you're reading this, than it means that Celestina Warbeck is really a man and the Weird Sisters have gone on tour in North Africa. And I'm so, so sorry…I know you're really disappointed in the quality of Remus' coffee._

…_All right, sorry. It's just that I didn't want to begin this letter with, 'If you're reading this, than it means that I am dead.'_

_Which it does._

_But who wants to read something with an opening like that? It's entirely too morbid._

_The point is, Harry, I'm gone. Dead, passed away, kicked the bucket, croaked, gone on, got jumped by Johnny Dead…whichever term suits your fancy. I'm a bit sad, really—the world's been an all right place, if you look at it from a neutral prospective. But I'm optimistic about the other side—I'll see good old Prongs again, and Lily Manilly, my dear cat Benito, and, of course, all the amazing members of the first Order._

_I'll miss you though, kid._

_I know what you have to do. I know all about the prophesy—and if you have no idea what I mean, I demand as your Godfather that you march right up to Dumbledore and threaten to tear his favourite bumblebee socks if he doesn't tell you just what I'm on about. After you've done that, come back and finish reading._

_If anyone can do it, Harry…you can. Don't get me wrong, Neville's a right nice bloke and all, but he hasn't got the strength of character that you have. He's too insecure, too attached to everything that they all tell him—he would let Dumbledore mould him into the hero that the people think they need, when in fact all they need is for someone to stand in front of them and tell them all to go to the blazes, because by God you need your space!_

_You really ought to try it once. I would have, but the whole convicted murderer thing was a bit of a setback._

_I hope I went down fighting, you know. I hope I took a few of the bastards with me. But even if I didn't, even if I died in my sleep of a heart attack because Snape tried to give me a lap dance or worse, a strip tease, I just want you to know that I'm happy. I love you, and I love Remus, but I'm happiest when I'm not cooped up in a small house with nothing to do except clean._

_I've never been a very tidy chap. Just ask Remus—he lived with me for seven years._

_And, knowing you, you'll probably be taking all the blame. I don't care what happened to me, I don't care if you pushed me in front of a bus, it is not your fault. And even if it is, do you think I blame you? Do you think that I am sad to go? In fact, I ought to be thanking you._

_It was just my time, Harry._

_I'll miss you in the afterlife, kid. But I'll keep and eye out for you. James, Lily, 'n' me. We'll have a blast. Tell Remus…well, tell him I'll look out for him, too, but only if he asks nicely._

_I'll miss you both. Fight for me, Harry. Fight for me, your dad, your mom…Remus, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley…fight for Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville…fight for all of us. And win._

_Love,_

_Sirius_

_P.S. For the record, tell Remus that it was me who took all of his underwear and hung it in the Great Hall in sixth year. And I was also the one who put the naked photo on the wall of the Astronomy Tower. And yes, I admit it, I'm the one who sent a signed photo of a completely-starkers Snape to McGonagall. Went through hell to get it signed, too._

_P.P.S. And please, no heathen rituals in an attempt to punish my soul for the above crimes…have a little respect the dead, ladies and gentlemen._

---

**Author's Notes: **Well, that was fun, wasn't it? Anyhoo, sorry this took so long … I sort of forgot about this "story" until just this morning. So anyway, enjoy:)


	7. McGonagall

For Mr. New, who's really just a softie.

---

_Mr Potter,_

_As this is coming from your professor, I'm sure you will feel somewhat awkward. But just for a moment, Harry, I want you to put our student-teacher relationship of seven years to the side and read this with an open mind._

_In spite of myself, I have grown rather fond of you and your antics. You are one of the few inherently good people that I know, and while I wish that you had given less opportunities to the other professors to deduct points from Gryffindor, I think that anything you do today will be worth all of that._

_I'd like to tell you a story, if I may._

_When I was young, I had a very, very close friend named Thomas. He was my best friend, someone who I did everything with. I would spend hours just sitting and talking with him, or sitting and not talking. I tutored him for the first year or so of our friendship, but he soon surpassed me in skill and** I** became the student._

_I would like to stress how close we were, Harry. I cannot tell you enough. I would have died for him, and I like to think he would have returned the favour. He was the loveliest, kindest boy I had ever met._

_Around the time that I turned fifteen, Thomas started to change. His jokes became a little bit more biting, his words harsher, and he became much more sarcastic. I thought he was going through a phase, and I let it slide. I could not see that Thomas was slowly pulling away from who he had been, slowly turning from all of our beliefs, and, worst of all, slowly turning away from me._

_When I turned sixteen, my girlfriends threw me a big party. Everyone I'd ever been within a mile of was invited. Surprisingly enough, everyone came. Every single person I knew came, Harry. . ._

_Except Thomas._

_I was miserable all night, in spite of how wonderful the party was. I told myself that there was something that he could absolutely **not** get out of, and he was just as miserable as I was because he couldn't make it._

_But that night, I slipped away from the party, pleading that I had to use the bathroom, and looked all over for him. For the life of me, I couldn't decide whether I wanted to find him, so that I knew he was all right and I could yell at him, or if I wanted him to be lost so that he would have a good reason to have stayed away._

_I did find him, that night. He was in the Great Hall, Harry, his arm draped around some girl's shoulder, reading a book. Just sitting there, alternately reading and snogging the girl when the book got too boring. I stared._

_The door shut with a loud bang behind me, and he looked up. "Oh, hello, Minerva."_

_He had long since stopped calling me 'Min', or 'Minnie'. I blinked at him, feeling tears well up in my throat. "W-Why… how … didn't you get the invitation?" I asked him, pleading silently for him to say no, what invitation?_

_But he just rolled his eyes. "Of course I got it. But honestly, Minerva – a **birthday party?** Come on. Nothing's worth going to one of those things."_

_When he said that, Harry … I felt my heart break. He had been my best friend for so long, and then … he just didn't care anymore. I felt as though my whole world was crumbling around me, as though the air had been ripped from my lungs._

_I'd like to say that I gave him a piece of my mind. That I railed and screamed at him for hours on end, but that would be a lie. I turned and fled to the Astronomy Tower (although even then, it was used for less … educational purposes) and curled into a ball in the corner, crying my eyes out._

_You may wonder what the point of my little tale is, Harry, and I'm sure you're bored with the ramblings of an old woman. But I think you will find it interesting to know that Thomas' – Tom's – last name … is Riddle._

_I'm sure that threw you for a loop – McGonagall, that stuffy old broad, best friends with the Dark Lord?_

_Well, it was before he was the Dark Lord, of course; although by then he had already turned, had set loose the basilisk once, had gotten Hagrid expelled … but Harry, **he was human, too**.He was once, and he will be again – he will be human when he is dying. He may be nothing but a creature now, but even creatures die – and rest assured, his last thoughts will **not** be pleasant._

_As I said, I did not yell at him that night. I **did,** however, place a rather nasty curse on him, letting loose all the things I didn't say that I wished I did._

_Good luck today, Harry. Know that I care for you, and Thomas **will** get his comeuppance, if I have to skip his birthday for him to get it._

_And yes, Mr Potter. That was a joke._

_Yours truly,_

Minerva McGonagall

---

**Author's Notes: **Well, I'm updating this on a whim while I'm searching for inspiration for Snippets, so I hope you enjoyed!

Hey.

Hey, do you see that?

It's a cute little purple button on the bottom of your screen. Press it.

Go on, press it.

You know you want to. Look how cute it is! It says "Review". I'll bet something really fun will happen if you press it and type a message.


	8. Epilogue

**Author's Notes:** In all honesty, there were going to be more letters. But I've simply lost my inspiration for this story—and anyway, how many times over can you say the same thing without repeating yourself?

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed!

And another one bites the dust. ;)

---

The sun was setting, sucking the last of the natural light from Hogwarts' grounds. Harry watched the darkness spread, devouring the grass and sliding up the trees. He Could almost feel Voldemort's eyes on him, separated though they were by the Forbidden Forest and its creatures.

A stack of letters lay behind him, envelopes disregarded, parchment strewn hastily as the pages of each mixed and mingled and merged. His cheeks were damp, but not wet; though his fingers trembled his wand stayed firm inside them. He sat alone, eyes sweeping in the world—its red-tipped mountains, silent breezes, and stone-stilled courtyards filled with the tired and the hungry and the injured.

Hedwig hooted once, nipping gently at her master's sleeve. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded once and tied a bit of parchment to her leg.

She took off into the night and he stood, watching her go, bathing in the growing moonlight. He gathered the letters at his feet and tucked them into his shirt pocket, eyes fluttering closed for an instant as he toyed with the wand in his hand.

He moved slowly but without hesitation, passing through the halls of the castle and walking towards the wood with calm determination.

He could feel Voldemort pressing closer, reaching, clawing, dragging him into a fight he's never wanted and hardly deserved. It was time, at long last, to finish. The end was drawing near and Harry watched it come.

The gentle weight of parchment seemed to lift him, to remind him of the years before and the sunlight of that morning and the laughter he's missed.

It was hard to be scared, just then.

---

Hedwig landed softly, hooting twice until someone paid her any attention. Hermione untied the parchment on her claw and began to read aloud.

_Hullo, everyone._

_I'm sorry that I had to clump you all together. You each deserve your own letter, your own __book__ of things that I am grateful for. I cannot describe how many times you have saved my life; from Voldemort, yes, but more than that. From loneliness—from fear—from doubt—from boredom—from the Dursleys—from despair—from myself._

_Do you understand?_

_I love you all. I don't say it enough—I have never said it enough, I __could__ never say it enough. It is you that I fight for today, and you that I bleed for, and you—perhaps—that I die for._

_I do it willingly._

_I know I'm not the best with words. In my wildest dreams I couldn't describe what you mean to me. (Although, admittedly, my wildest dreams aren't exactly filled with goodbye letters but rather endless supplies of Sugar Quills and Quidditch World Cups and Gin—and girls.)_

_There are so many things I wish that I could say. I wish that I could tell you. Ron, you are my best friend. I have never known someone as loyal or hilarious or easy-going. You have always been the one that knows how to cheer me up, and stuck by my side even at my git-iest moments. (Also, you scream like a girl.)_

_Hermione, you know I would not have made it through Hogwarts (or life) without you. I mean that. Beyond the fact that you are infinitely smarter than I am, you have always been there to clean up my messes and smack me over the head when I needed to be smacked. You are the sister I never had and didn't realize I wanted—__needed__— until I met you._

_Ginny, I can see that there has been a severe case of miscommunication between us. You say you've made yourself obvious; I say that you clearly underestimate my thickness. You are beautiful funny and fierce and wonderful and I will never forget you. If this had been a different life, I would have worked very hard to make sure you had a key part in it, do you understand?_

_Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, you are the only parents I have ever known. You have been the best family any bloke could ask for and I am so grateful you've put up with me all these years. Where would I be without your cooking, Mrs. Weasley? Eighty pounds scrawnier, that's for sure._

_Remus, you say my parents would have been proud of me. Do you not know that they would be proud of you? You are the kindest, gentlest, most deserving soul I've ever met. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise._

_Fred & George: in the event of disaster, I've left you a significant sum of money for your gift shop. All I ask is you name something after me—something absolutely tasteless and that would make even Voldemort wince._

_McGonagall—believe it or not, your countless scoldings __have__ taught me something. You have always been the one to treat me just like every other student, and for that I thank you. You've had to put up with a lot from me and you've never given up. I can't explain how much that means._

_Without you all, I am less than nothing. Thank you for being a part of my life._

_I will see you in a couple hours. After all, what can go wrong?_

_All my love—all of it._

_Harry_

---

And though at the last he was unaccompanied—though only two wands were active when the final words were said—though only the trees and the moss and the endless midnight sky bore witness to history—Harry Potter was not, nor had he ever been, alone.

The magic was bright and colorful and collapsed in on itself, taking with it a heart and a soul and a scar.

---

The held a funeral.

It was controversial, at first—no one wanted an upset or a problem or to disrespect. But it was important, they decided, to put him—and_it_ and _them_—to rest.

No kind words were said—no pity was shed—no eyes leaked tears. But his body burned and his ashes scattered into the stars, punctuating the end of every constellation.

Not many came, and no one expected them to. Ron did not come, and Hermione stayed away. Only Ginny (who needed to see it, needed to understand that he was really and truly _gone_), and Remus (who'd lost so much and hadn't thought there was anything left to lose), and McGonagall (for he had been, after all, a just boy).

And Harry. Harry came too, to watch his greatest adversary burn into harmless, weightless ash that might settle on his clothes but could so easily be washed away.

They walked back in a silence broken only by the soft, relieved twittering of birds.

**The End.**


End file.
